


Hermione gets the Details of Harry's Particularly Happy Hour Spent Down by the Lake with Ginny at Lunch Time

by Spectrespecs_vs_Wrackspurts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, POV Ginny Weasley, Romantic Fluff, Touch-Starved, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spectrespecs_vs_Wrackspurts/pseuds/Spectrespecs_vs_Wrackspurts
Summary: Ginny and Harry's relationship is still young, but it's not moving nearly quickly enough for Ginny.  Harry is more than willing to participate in affectionate touch, but is hesitant to initiate it and Ginny is eager for more.  After a "sneaky" conversation with Hermione, Ginny devises a plan to guide Harry's hands, and while her plan is successful, Hermione quickly catches on and corners Ginny for details.Meant to be read as an insert in Book 6, Ch. 25.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59





	Hermione gets the Details of Harry's Particularly Happy Hour Spent Down by the Lake with Ginny at Lunch Time

**Author's Note:**

> Had a request on a different work for more on Ginny and Hermione's friendship revolving around their relationships. Worked on this one for a while and wanted to imbed the more smut filled portions of it into the conversation between Ginny and Hermione as I've done in the past, but this seemed to flow better. 
> 
> I think we miss a lot of Ginny and Hermione's friendship in the books because we're seeing things primarily from Harry's POV - but I'd like to think there is a lot of intelligent banter between them; that Hermione's support of Harry & Ginny's relationship goes beyond "date other people so you can relax around him" and more into some of Hermione's observations of Harry's behavior.

Ginny had initially thought that Harry was just being the upmost gentleman. He only occasionally initiated any contact with Ginny, but was always willing to put his arm over her shoulder or play with her hair when she tucked into his side and he gave small, reassuring squeezes when she held his hand. Ginny didn’t mind, he was always quick to reciprocate affectionate hugs or hand holding in public. In fact, when they were alone he could be downright cuddly. But, when they snogged, it was always Ginny whose hands wandered first. She somewhat expected this, but he didn’t seem to be waiting for her to take the lead, he didn’t seem to be waiting for anything. It was driving Ginny insane. She had nearly gone to Hermione to ask for advice, but broaching the subject, “How do I get Harry to grab my arse when we snog or sneak a hand up my shirt or… up my skirt?” did not seem like the kind of questions Hermione would know the answers to, and she was definitely not willing to see the look on Hermione’s face as she asked these things.

It wasn’t a problem she was familiar with, but it was a problem. Her past boyfriends did this unbiddenly, and sometimes without her necessarily wanting it, leading to the uncomfortable question, “Don’t you want this too?” when she slowed or stopped them. 

Not Harry. The noble prat. 

And she so desperately wanted him to do… anything. She wanted to explore his body more fully but didn’t want to move her hands to new and more scandalous places when he obviously wasn’t comfortable putting his hands on her. So, she had taken the lead. She’d nonchalantly place a hand on his thigh when they sat together in the Common Room, once or twice she’d swatted at his arse with a wink, and when they snogged shed make quick work of the buttons on his shirt or sneak her hands up the back to place bare hands on back, stomach, and chest. Granted, touching a man’s chest was not nearly as sensual as touching a woman’s, but Ginny felt she was pushing lines without him reciprocating. She sent every “touch me” signal she could think of to him and yet his hands stayed safe.

It wasn’t unpleasurable. His hands, when they did wander, moved so softly, like whispers over her skin, her arms, her neck, down her back and up her sides. She would erupt in chills, her arms pimpled with goose flesh, her skin feeling so sensitive she felt on fire and yearned for more. He wasn’t always gentle either. He sometimes pulled her so close to him so that their bodies touched completely, lips down to toes, and once, after she had let out a slightly embarrassing whimper when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot below her jaw, he had pushed her to a wall and pressed his body flush to hers while kissing her deeply. It had been insanely hot and she was so sure his hands would finally wander then, but he had pulled away mere moments later and apologized to her sheepishly. 

The embarrassing question, “Don’t you want this too?” had almost left her lips then, but she bit them back and instead grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to her with what she hoped was a sexy, “Please, don’t stop” and he had returned to kissing her, but his hands never strayed from the safety of her hips, arms, hair. 

Insane. He was going to drive her absolutely _insane_. But just around two weeks into their relationship she knew she shouldn’t rush him, but she needed him to rush, she needed an answer to the mystery of why her boyfriend wasn’t trying to slide his hands to her breasts, her butt, to other… places. 

Harry was odd when it came to touching her though. He wanted to, she could tell. Once she initiated contact he was hesitant to break it. He bathed in it, craved it, but rarely reached for it. Well, he did, but in a covert sort of way. They were in the library studying when she noticed it at first. Harry was reading in the chair next to her, their legs touching ankle to knee. His legs, longer, crammed against the top of the table in what had to be a painful position for him, but touching hers none the less. It was odd. She had studied Harry for years, from both close and from afar. He preferred to lean back in his chair, sometimes pulling the front legs off the ground and balancing slightly as he read, much to the chagrin of his teachers, or else he huddled over his parchment, one leg bent under his chair while the other took a slight angle straight in front of him, like a hurdler going over a fence, poised for escape.

Yet here he was, legs crammed at a 90º angle, touching hers at every surface possible. They were just sitting, studying, few words had been shared between them, and yet he was doing his best to touch her as much as he could, just not with his hands.

She experimented then, shifting her legs straight in front of her, straightening them out. Almost in tandem, Harry’s leg had followed hers, maintaining as much contact as he could, and he settled into his hurdler’s huddle over his paper. She smirked, he seemed to have acted unconsciously as he continued copying down his thoughts onto the roll of parchment he was working on for Herbology. She stayed still for a moment, pretending to continue to read, allowing him to focus on his work for a paragraph or two before she struck again. She crossed her legs at the ankle, narrowing the space available for him to maintain contact.

A moment, two moments.

He shifted slightly, still in his stance, but the angle only allowed his shin to come in contact with her calf for a few inches.

_Triumph._

It seemed unconscious, but it was strong. Like a thirsty man in a desert, it did not matter whether the source of water was an oasis or a trickle of water, he wanted it. He didn’t complain, he didn’t ask for more, he just took what he could get and soaked in it. Ginny grinned, _well this was something_. She could work with this. Get answers from this. She uncrossed her legs and angled herself slightly, and Harry’s leg found hers again, thigh to foot, and she went back to her reading, leaving him to continue his work on Sprout’s essay.

When they returned to the Common Room together hand in hand, some hour later, they found Ron and Hermione sitting in each other’s proximity but not quite near each other. Still uncomfortable after their recent rough patch, they were more balanced with their friend there. Ron immediately challenged Harry to a game of chess and he kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand as he departed with Ron to the corner. She moved to sit next to Hermione who was reading with a purring Crookshanks on her lap on one of their favorite squashy couches.

“Hermione,” she whispered softly, “I need a little advice.”

Hermione looked up from her book, “Is something wrong?” She asked, gaze searching.

“No… not exactly,” Ginny began. She had planned this out a bit, but she didn’t want to completely out her and Harry’s personal private moments to anyone, and Hermione was sharper than most and could sniff out a lie of omission like a Niffler after a Galleon. “See, I have a question about Harry, he’s a little odd about touching…”

Hermione blanched and made a slight movement towards her wand and Ginny back tracked immediately, cursing herself internally, “Not like that, not like that, he’s the absolute perfect gentleman.”

Hermione relaxed but her eyes were now intent. Great, already this was not going how Ginny had wanted it to go. “Listen. He doesn’t have wandering hands, that’s not it at all. This is Harry we’re talking about! It’s just. He won’t reach out to me, but he seems to unconsciously need to touch when we’re together. His leg up against mine even if it means his knee is crushed up under the table… but he won’t throw an arm around my shoulders, which seems like it would be much less complicated, don’t you think?”

Hermione just looked at her. Brilliant. This was going just brilliantly.

“I mean, I only noticed because we were sitting together, and it seemed like without thinking, I moved, he moved. Like a magnet…. and it just got me thinking that this is something Harry…does?”

“So he’s going to the library with you to distract you while you’re studying again?” Hermione asked, a less menacing look on her face, but she still didn’t look pleased with Harry none the less.

“It wasn’t bothersome really, not at all. I only noticed it because he was sitting oddly”

“Harry always sits oddly, he has terrible posture, like if he’s ready to bolt out of his chair the minute the class ends” Ginny smiled at Hermione’s description of one of her favorite weird quirks of Harry’s. She really was doomed with how much she fancied the boy that the way he sat made her swoon. 

“Not that,” she grinned, “no he had his legs crammed up against the table, he was too tall for it, and I thought, why on earth is he sitting like that? Then I noticed he was sitting that way so that his leg could press to mine. It’s just odd, Harry goes from kissing me in front of the entire common room to sitting with his legs crushed against the table when he could just throw his arm over my shoulder? He won’t even initiate a hug, so no, he definitely never tries anything.” She reiterated the final point to make sure Harry didn’t get a hex thrown his way by a still alert Hermione.

Hermione looked at Ginny for a long moment, either contemplating the information at hand, or contemplating telling her something she already knew, Ginny couldn’t tell.

“He’s touch starved, Ginny” Hermione said quietly, but rather matter-of-factly.

“Touch… - what?”

“Touch starved. I’ve read about it, but it’s a muggle term. It’s what happens when someone goes a long period of time without physical contact from another person. I don’t… well, I don’t know that his relatives are particularly loving people, Ginny. I think he may have gotten more hugs from your mum in the last 6 years than he has from them maybe his entire life.”

Ginny stared at her. She thought of her own metaphor, the thirsty man in the desert. Leave it to Hermione to know the actual term for these things. “How do you know this?” she asked.

Hermione shrugged, the crisis of Ginny accidentally alerting her to Harry’s nonexistent misconduct forgotten, and slouched down deeper into the couch. She contemplated for a moment, then looked at her, a slightly sad expression on her face, “Your family is big and particularly crowded and loving,” Hermione noted, “so, you’re comfortable with touch because that’s just normal to you. But it’s not normal to Harry. I may have been one of his first hugs from a friend our first year. You would have thought I swung my arm back to slap him the way he tensed at first. He’s more comfortable with it now, but you’re right, he doesn’t usually initiate it, probably because he hasn’t been shown how to properly. He’s never seen it really.”

Ginny contemplated this for a moment and noticed Hermione watching her.

“What’s this really about Ginny?” and the one thing Ginny was sure she was going to get right about this conversation presented itself. There was no way she was going to admit she was dying for Harry to slip a hand up her skirt to Hermione.

“I’m happy with him. I guess I got a little self-conscious that I always seemed to be the one initiating hugs or hand holding, like if I wasn’t sure he also wanted to be with me. But then he does the sweetest things like kiss me on the cheek out in the open in the the common room,” she gestured lamely to where Harry and her and separated for his chess match, “or mirror my movements to just maintain contact, and it was just a bit confusing.”

Hermione grinned, “Talk to him about it, Ginny. The boy kissed you in front of the entire Common Room, I’m sure he won’t mind giving you a hug now and then.”

“Checkmate!” Ron called from the corner, and Ginny couldn’t have agreed more.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

After her conversation with Hermione Ginny verbally encouraged Harry to touch her, giving him permission to initiate contact with things like, “I love walking down the corridors when your arm is slung around me like this, it feels warmer” after she guided his arm over her shoulders. She noticed the effect immediately. Once given permission, once guided in how to just reach out and initiate contact with her, Harry did so enthusiastically. It was as if he wanted to reach out to her, but he didn’t want to do it improperly; as if he was afraid that one false move and she would shy away from him immediately. He seemed to be refusing to push her far enough to have his hand slapped away, so she formed a plan to guide his hands.

She felt she made exceptional progress later that week in the Common Room when she intertwined her fingers with the arm he’d tentatively placed over her shoulders and moved his grip to around her torso near her breasts whispering “I’m not sure there’s a better feeling than you pulling me close like this.” He’d frozen for a moment before she could feel him turn his head to look at her. When she met his eyes a grin broke on his face and he brought his hand up to her chin, leaning in for soft but searing kiss, “Not even that?” He’d whispered a breaths distance from her lips, and Ginny felt both chills and heat as her jumper clad arms erupted in goose pimples while her cheeks flushed slightly. She’d smirked and joked, “I suppose I have coached you up quite well.” Which had made Harry laugh. But the moment had been practically steamy.

Thursday dawned bright and clear, and Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand when he met her outside her Charms class for lunch. They made their way towards the Great Hall, but Ginny redirected him through the Entrance Hall and straight out the oak doors onto the grounds. “I brought a picnic” she said, patting her bag, “I thought we could enjoy the weather.” Ginny had no intention of eating much.

They made their way to that same tree they had sat together at after their first kiss. They had frequented this place many times since and it had quickly become theirs. It was hidden on the edge of the Forbidden Forest and supplied cover from the castle, the Quidditch pitch, and Hagrid’s cabin, all while providing a shaded view of the lake. It was secluded without being dark, just a cool shade to enjoy on a warm day.

He conjured a blanket for them and sat down, back against the tree, knees bent slightly and then looked up at her. Ginny stood there for a moment, fumbling in her bag for the crackers and cheeses she had stashed away, a little nervous and trying to decide if she could set up their picnic, eat, and spend some time filling each other’s need for touch in the hour she had before her next class.

“You’re so beautiful.” he whispered. She focused her attention away from her bag and looked at him. He was looking up at her, squinting slightly from the sun, one of his hands reached up as an offering, a gesture.

She pulled her bag off her shoulder and let it slide to the ground, then she took his hand and kneeled slowly, maintaining eye contact with him until they were nose to nose, Ginny situated between his knees. She brought her hand up to his cheek and he closed her eyes at her touch. She slowly brought her fingers down his jaw to his chin and tilted it as she leaned in. She kissed him, softly, trailing her finger down his neck, trying to recreate those feather light touches he used to drive her insane. She felt him shiver at her touch and she smirked into their kiss. She pulled away from him slightly, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth, but kept the feather light touch of her hand going down his chest.

She opened her eyes slightly to watch him. His eyes were still closed and he had a dopey smile playing on his lips. He leaned forward to recapture her lips and she pulled back slightly, teasingly, allowing his lips to ghost hers, but not kiss them fully. She nipped his lip again, smirked, and pulled back away again slightly when he leaned further forward. He huffed slightly in frustration.

“Ginny” he whispered her name. Her hand was now traveling dangerously low, she could feel the muscles of his abdomen tense slightly under his shirt with her teasing ministrations.

“Mmmhmm”

“This is-“ he huffed again as her fingers ghosted over his belt buckle, “You’re so - Please, can I kiss you?”

“I’m yours Harry. Yours to kiss, yours to touch…” she played with the waistband of his trousers and he shivered again, “you just have to reach out Harry. Reach out, touch me, I want you to…. Please”

He was not the youngest seeker in a century for nothing.

No sooner had the word _‘please’_ left her lips that his hand shot forward and tangled into her hair, _“how did he move so fast without moving at all?”_ He leaned forward and captured her lips, crushing his mouth to hers. His movement caused her to gasp and reflexively grab hold of his belt, the tips of her fingers finding hot skin just below the waistband, her fingers scratching his abdomen slightly. The kiss was hungry, starved, and glorious. His tongue swiped and swirled it in soft, smooth, quick movements as he explored her lips, the roof of her mouth, the tip of her tongue. This was not the soft gentle kiss she usually received from Harry, it was possessive the way his mouth had claimed hers. He had far too many clothes on.

She closed the distance between their bodies, straddling one of his legs, one hand wound behind his neck, deepening the kiss. Her other hand remained curled around his belt with the tips of her fingers grazing the soft skin under his waistband. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer still, her chest pressed against his. Then she leaned her weight back on one leg and moved the other so that she was properly straddling him, far more intimate in her school skirt than it had been in her Quidditch kit.

He pulled out of the kiss for a moment and looked at her, tried to move his body away from her slightly, she could feel him trying to adjust his hips so that his erection wouldn’t jab into her thigh, but she wouldn’t let go of his belt.

“Harry”

He paused. She looked into his eyes and brought the hand that had looped around his neck to his cheek. Again, he closed his eyes to the touch and after a moment the hand that was tangled in her hair loosened slightly and moved to her own cheek, mimicking her movement. She brought her hand to his as it rest on her cheek, and she lightly grasped it in her own. He opened his eyes and looked at her. He had been breathing hard but he stopped then, holding his breath, watching her. Maintaining eye contact, she pulled his hand down, slowly, dragging his fingers down her jaw, her neck, over her breast. His eyes widened and moved from hers down to their hands.

“Harry,” his eyes shot back to hers, “I’m yours, I’m yours to kiss and touch and I need you to touch me. You have my permission to touch me anywhere you’d like, and I want you to touch me.” He let out a shaky breath, she released her hand from his belt and began to move it further down, not yet touching, but inching closer the bulge he had unsuccessfully tried to rearrange, pressed firmly against her thigh. He gasped slightly and she felt a slight twitch that made her breath hitch. “Can I… Can I touch you back?”

He searched her eyes, then nodded before slowly leaning in, stopping just before kissing her, “A picnic, huh?” he grinned against her lips.

She smirked back, “I found a better use for the blanket.” and she closed the distances between their lips.

He hummed an answer, and she felt his hand travel from her breast down to her waist. She was about to lose her mind. She knew it. It hadn’t worked. And then, his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt and up. Ginny whimpered.

“Is this ok?” he asked, his fingers feather light again, but moving up her shirt along her ribs.

“Yes” she whispered, her eyes were shutting against her will. Then she felt his other hand, hot and dry against the top of her thigh right above her knee somehow moving slower than the one in her shirt.

“And this?” He asked again, fingers skimming upward, barely lifting her skirt.

“You’re such a tease, Potter” she whimpered, “Yes… Please”

He leaned forward and captured her lips once more, his hands moving across her skin in the same way that made her erupt in chills but in places that made her brain foggy and her breath hitch.

His fingers ghosted across her rib cage, over a breast, paused around a nipple and circled it through her bra and she arched her back slightly, craving more, needing more, needing… a second to comprehend his other hand, inching up her thigh in a lazy serpentine. He moved his hand from the outside to the inside and she moaned into his mouth when his fingers slid slowly up the inside of her leg.

The moan triggered another twitch from the erection in his pants. She had not been doing her part. She slid her hand beyond the last bit of space she had left and placed her palm against his hardness and she felt him press into her, moaning back into her mouth as she smirked against his lips. She began to move a bit on top of him him, grinding her hips slightly, moving her hand from his hardness to his shirt pulling him into her, creating friction between their bodies, adding to the overwhelming sensation of his fingers on her skin. For a while they moved together, kissing, feather light touches drifting over and around her bra as his other hand moved from her thigh to cup her arse and pull her closer. She moaned slightly. He broke away and began leaving hot, wet kisses down her jaw, her neck, that spot that made her whimper and she felt her body arch further, inviting his hands further in.

His lips trailed along the collar of her shirt for a while, then he worked the hand in her shirt out and she almost hexed him right there, but he moved it up to the top button of her shirt and began to pull it apart, fumbling. Ginny’s hands shot up and began to help him, making quick work of her shirt buttons, Harry moved his hand down to her knee and began to tease his way up the inside her leg.

What had she done? If she thought he had been driving her insane before it was _nothing_ compared to now. Harry bent back to kiss her neck and brought the hand that had been grasping at her arse to her bra, pulling slightly at the fabric, his fingers sliding both over and beneath it. When his fingers circled a nipple and his mouth nipped at that damn spot on her neck and his palm slid hot and warm up her skirt all at once Ginny thought she was going to black out. It was all too much and not enough. He was too good and not confident enough in his movements yet, he was touching her expertly but moving too hesitantly, too softly, still learning this, still learning her. It was the best torture she could imagine as his hands explored her body too slowly, as he repeated motions that had made her whimper or sigh. He was so exceedingly gentle. He worshiped her. His mouth trailing lower and the hand on her thigh trailing higher.

Ginny, for her part, was not contributing much. Her hands were fisted into his shirt, and her hips had slowed their motion as she tried to comprehend every touch, every feeling. He slid his hand up to her neck and then down her collarbone, to her shoulder, sliding one of the straps of her bra down. She shivered when he pulled the cup down, exposing one of her breast and placing kisses. His hands moved slowly, his mouth was hot, and when he placed his mouth over her nipple the same moment the tips of his fingers found her knickers he didn’t seem to know which movement had created the particularly sharp gasp that had escaped her lips. So he repeated both, then one, then the other, repeated both again.

“What did I say about teasing, Potter”

“You seem to be enjoying this nearly as much as I am, Ginevera.”

She couldn’t even be mad.

He slid a knuckle softly over her slit on the outside her knickers but didn’t explore further. Just light touches. She moaned, “Harry, please.” He slid his hand sideways and into her knickers but his fingers only teased. She was going to hex him either way.

“Uhm, Ginny.” His voice was so quiet she almost couldn’t hear it over the blood rushing in her ears.

“Mhhhm” she answered.

“Erm, I’ve never…. I don’t know….” She leaned leaned back a little to look at him.

“This is perfect, Harry.”

“I want to… only if you want me to I mean… I want… I don’t want to hurt you. I want this to be good for you. Show me? Like you did before?” He asked timidly, embarrassed, not knowing the power he had over her in this moment.

Michael had been a dunce and got his hand slapped more times than not. Dean had rushed a bit into things and had fumbled the mark so badly that she wasn’t even sure it counted, he hadn’t gotten much further than Harry was now. Neither of them had asked her this.

The noble prat was noble even with his hand in her knickers.

She cupped his cheek and pulled him into a kiss. “Keep going.” She whispered against his lips before capturing them again. A slow and sensual pace. She let the hand cupping his cheek drift down and slide under the waistband of her skirt, meeting his and holding it lightly. She traced his finger up her slit, she could feel how wet she was and moaned softly into the kiss. She guided him like that, up and down, then towards her clit and positioned his thumb to circle it softly, slowly. She wouldn’t last long, not with his teases and touches, not with weeks worth of building anticipation. “Like that”, she whispered, “just like that.”

Harry followed her instruction. Just like before he paid attention to her, the noises she was making, the noises he was making her make, gasps and sighs and whimpers. He kept his touches soft and twice more she helped guide him with her own hand until he seemed to gain confidence that he had permission to explore further, that the gasps and whimpers were not of pain, but pleasure. He repeated motions and added pressure until she was digging one hand into the blanket and the other into Harry’s shoulder. When it all got too intense for her to continue kissing him he abandoned her mouth and kissed her jaw, her shoulders, every spot he could reach with his mouth without moving her, without disrupting those earth shattering motions he was making with his hand. He trailed hisses up to her ear and murmured how perfect she was before returning to the sensitive spot on her neck. She came undone shortly after that. Gripping his shoulder, the hand in the blankets leaving them to slow his touches, burying her face into the side of his neck his name tumbling from her lips.

He held her tightly and until she regained her senses, then she kissed a trail from his neck to his lips before resting her forehead against his. “That. Was brilliant” she gasped finally. Harry grinned and captured her mouth in another kiss.

They kissed for a moment or two before Ginny let her hands wander down Harry’s chest and stomach again. She didn’t pause this time, didn’t tease, she placed her palm against his erection and rubbed it. Harry hummed into her kiss.

“Ginny, you don’t have to – “

“I want to. Will you let me?” He nodded quickly, hesitation evaporated by his own desire, and she leaned forward and kissed him again, pressing her body tight against his, grinding her hips against him. He groaned under her, swearing, and Ginny smirked, “Teasing is rude isn’t it?”

He didn’t seem to be able to speak. She ground against him for a moment more while her hands made quick work with his belt and trouser buttons. Then she slid off him and cuddled next to him, propping herself on an elbow and trailing her fingers down his stomach, into his pants, and then around his cock. It was hotter, harder, and softer than she imagined it would be. She began to pump him slowly, and his hands moved into fists.

“Is this ok?”

“Please, don’t stop”, he gasped. She smirked, and pulled his pants further down to free him. She froze then, hesitating. She understood the concept and had done some over the clothing touching before, but had never really gotten this far, and Harry’s was the first she’d seen. He read her hesitation and his hands moved to hers.

“Ginny you don’t have to.” His hands moved toward the pants she had just pushed down and she realized her folly.

“Ah ah ah. I’m just admiring it, Potter. Let me have my fun.”

She continued. His face was the most readable she’d ever seen it. Changes in motion made his eyebrows twitch, his lashes flutter, his mouth was moving slightly and she could hear huffs of air as she picked up a rhythm he seemed to particularly like. “Ginny…. Oh… Gin… shit… I’m going to…” and his hands moved to cover himself, to catch the mess as she helped him to finish. He came with a groan and her name on his lips, and Ginny felt powerful, reducing Harry Potter, the Chosen One, to a pile of mush.

He leaned back and cursed softly under his breath. She grabbed her wand and siphoned away the mess made, both on his hands and, slightly embarrassingly, a little bit of her own juices on his crotch from when she grinded against him.

A quick Tergeo and Scourgify and they were clean, redressing and straightening clothing. She checked her watch and signed. “Harry, I have Transfiguration in 10 minutes”. He looked at her, slightly dazed still, a dopey grin played across his lips again, “Potions in 10. But we never had our picnic, you owe me you know.”

She laughed, “Do I now, Potter?”

“Mhmm. Well quick, what do you have in your bag? Let me make something for you so you can eat and walk to class.”

He was unbelievable sometimes. He quickly made use of the crackers, transfiguring them into bread, then stacked the meat, and cheeses she had meant for a romantic charcuterie and handed her a makeshift sandwich that she had to admit looked pretty good.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to class,” he grinned.

“You’ll be late to potions.” She protested.

“Slughorn won’t mind. He’d probably approve of my attempt to charm his favorite hex thrower.”

“Mmmm, if you say so. I suppose I won’t drag you into a classroom and make you even later… today.” She winked up at him and he laughed.

As they headed back up to the castle she took his hand, but he moved it out of hers and, instead, draped his arm over her shoulder. Without asking, without her invitation, all on his own. They walked back to the castle like this, she stuck as close to him as she could, munching on her sandwich and trying to give him the touch he craved. 

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Hermione seemed suspicious at dinner that night. Brilliant. They hadn’t even made it 24 hours and Hermione seemed to know something had happened. To be fair, Harry’s behavior had changed decidedly. They sat across from Hermione and Ron with Harry’s arm draped over Ginny’s shoulders as she ate. He mostly picked at his food, engaged in conversation with Ron about the Cannons, but when he adjusted his posture to properly tuck in he had allowed his hand to drift slowly down her back, then under the table to her leg to give her thigh a quick squeeze, something she often did to him, before grabbing his knife and fork properly to eat. 

If it were anyone else it would have been inconspicuous. But it was Harry, and Hermione had seen. Her face formed that that stupid knowing look and Ginny cursed internally. 

She tried to avoid Hermione’s eye contact for the rest of her dinner and Harry hadn’t reached for her again, too focused on his food, so she finished quickly then stood and placed a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek, “I’ve got a bit of work to do so I’ll see you lot later on.” and left.

She hoped a few hours of absence would have made Hermione forget but she really should have known better. She did indeed had quite a bit of work to get through. Nervous that the library was not the best place to hide from Hermione, she had situated herself among her fellow fifth year classmates for added protection and endured more complaining about workload than peace and silence in the library. After the third threat of hexing them if they didn’t shut up, Ginny resolved that the coast was probably clear and moved to a more secluded corner to work. She had been at it for maybe an hour more and was nearly finished when, of course, Hermione sat down.

“Your boyfriend is a prat.” She huffed as she dropped her bag and a small stack of old newspaper articles down on the desk.

This was good. Harry made Hermione mad and Hermione definitely forgot what she saw. Brilliant.

Ginny tread carefully anyway, refusing to look up from the conclusion of her last essay of the night, “What did he do this time?”

“He’s so stubborn he just… refuses to see any reason and I told him -“

“Ah ah ah, let me guess…” Ginny loved this game, “you’re not mad at Harry, you’re mad about the potions book.” It was a 50/50 shot this year. Hermione was either annoyed with Harry because of potions or annoyed with Harry because he was suspicious of Draco Malfoy. After the incident in the bathroom, Ginny supposed the two were more tightly wound in Hermione’s mind, so maybe it was more a 70/30 bet. She looked up for confirmation and smirked at Hermione’s face, “I love being right.”

Hermione ignored her, “He refuses to acknowledge this so called ‘Prince’ could be a girl! But I found proof!” and she waved the stack of newspaper in the air.

“Hermione, there isn’t really royalty in the magical world so I could be wrong, but aren’t Princes boys?” Ginny quipped. She had her eyes back on her homework, eye contact with Hermione was a dangerous game if you were trying to hide something. She wondered if Hermione had some sort of natural Legilimency ability or if she was just that impossibly observant. She supposed if Hermione was a Legilimens that she’d be in for quite the show. 

“That’s exactly what Harry said! You always take his side on this Prince thing.” Good. This was good. A mad Hermione was singleminded and a force to be reckoned with, just ask Marietta Edgecomb. 

“Mostly because I don’t necessarily think that he’s wrong…”

“But Ginny he nearly killed-“

“Yes.” Ginny snapped. They had argued over this before. “Yes. What happened with Malfoy was terrible. Absolutely terrible and terrifying and nasty and you don’t think Harry knows that? Do you really think he MEANT to send a curse like that? This is Harry, Hermione. Harry Potter. You know, the one who famously shot _EXPELLIARMUS_ at Voldemort? It’s only famous because you’re the one who made sure the story got out, so surely you remember?” She glared at Hermione, eye contact be damned. “I know you love books, but between the two of us, who do you think has more intimate knowledge of how dangerous they can be, Hermione?”

Hermione looked abashed. It was a bit of a low blow, but this whole fiasco surrounding this stupid book has been sending Ginny into a haunted section of her mind and it had been leaving her feeling both aggravated and unseen for weeks. Harry had once forgot that it was she Tom Riddle had seduced with a book. Once. She did not let him forget it again. So she would be damn sure Hermione would not glance over that fact because of a scribbled over textbook.

“You’re mad, and you have every reason to be mad because Harry had a resource you didn’t and was out performing you.” She hissed, she could feel herself tensing, “But that’s not his fault, and from what I can tell your textbook is rubbish if a few lines about stirring in a different direction or adding an extra beetle eye is all it takes for Harry to perform leaps and bounds better than EVERYONE in that class.” Ginny took a deep breath, she looked back down at her essay, staring without seeing. “Snape seemed to know it too anyway,” she added, “he never actually had us pull our textbooks out remember? Always wrote on the board in that stupid tiny handwriting. As far as I’m concerned good vision and a tough skin were all that was required to pass his classes. That or being a Slytherin.”

She had let her quill hover over her parchment during her outburst and a pool of ink had dripped from the end. She cursed. “You distracted me, I was nearly done too.”

Hermione whipped out her wand and cleared the blob away, “Do you want me to look over that for you?” She asked timidly.

Hermione rarely offered this to Ginny, mostly because Ginny never asked. But, this was obviously a peace offering, and Transfiguration was not her best subject, and she really was ready to be done. She slid her parchment over.

“I’m sorry -” Hermione began.

“It’s fine.” Ginny interrupted. “I get it, I really do. You’re were riding a Cleansweep while Harry had a Firebolt and everyone was congratulating him on being faster as if it were all talent, not equipment. Harry knows you’re better at it, Hermione. Of course he knows. He also feels terrible about Malfoy, and is in those detentions with Snape where he has to read those horrid cards with his Dad’s and Sirius’ names popping up into his face every Saturday. So, while I admire your desire to hunt down a mystery… please, lay off him. He feels bad enough as it is.”

Hermione nodded. She looked down at Ginny’s essay and began to read. Ginny placed her face in her palms to relax her eyes. After a few moments she heard Hermione snort.

“What’s funny?” she asked, looking to her essay.

“He really did use a disarming spell. Against Voldemort. Then blasted Draco My-Father-Will-Hear-About-This Malfoy with… who even knows what that was. Seems a bit lopsided don’t you think? One is the most evil wizard known to man… and the other…”

“Is a ferret.” Ginny finished, and the girls dissolved into giggles, trying to pull themselves together before Madam Pince came their way, failing spectacularly. 

When they finally got themselves under control, she watched as Hermione made a few small changes to her essay, asked a few questions here or there to get the older girl’s clarifications, and finished the last few sentences herself once Hermione had passed it back. Ginny was pleased that her work seemed mostly up to Hermione’s standard, “Thanks Hermione. This year truly is killer.” 

“It’s tough, but you’re nearly there… So…” Ginny Froze. _Shit._ “About your prat of a boyfriend….”

“W-what about him?” Ginny was carefully rolling her parchment up, taking her time. Not meeting Hermione’s eyes. 

“You look way more guilty when you refuse to look at me you know?” Ginny looked up and Hermione had that stupid knowing look she was always trying to avoid. 

“I’m not guilty. You’re just nosy”

“So I have something to be nosy about?” Hermione smirked. Knowing look looked like it already knew. Ginny couldn’t help but think back to their lunch at the lake and felt herself smile against her will, she scrunched her face trying to hide it. Damnit. 

“I thought so. He was all over you at dinner, Ginny. Well. Harry’s version of all over you….. So. What exactly did you do to make him so… _handsy_?” she emphasized the last word. 

Ginny blushed but said nothing, she just kept arranging her essay.

“Here, let me help.” Hermione waved her wand and Ginny’s scrolls wound themselves perfectly, levitated along side her books off the table, and her possessions stacked themselves neatly in her bag. “I really love that spell, simple, but it really… comes in _handy_ … if you know what I mean.”

She had set up a joke, twice, and knew that Ginny couldn’t resist finishing the punchline. It was dastardly. Diabolical. Ginny opened her mouth to answer, then shut it. Hermione looked gleeful, as if she had gotten all the confirmation she needed.

Ginny took a deep breath and then sighed, grinning, resolved to winning the war over the stupid scribbled text book, but losing to this particular battle. 

“Yes Hermione. Harry also likes it when things… come in handy.”

“Spill” Hermione exclaimed, and to Ginny’s astonishment she cast the Muffliato charm. There was no going back now. Hermione really meant business. 

“I take back my admiration for you hunting down a mystery.”

“Spill.” Hermione crossed her arms and smirked.

“Was his arm over my shoulder at dinner really what gave us away?”

“It confirmed my suspicions: Harry was late to class and looked dazed all of potions, you two were absent from lunch today with that so called 'picnic' of yours, and him daydreaming in the Common Room while pretending to do the Herbology essay he should have finished earlier this week coupled with that guilty look on your face -“ Hermione spread her hands on the table in front of them as if displaying her evidence, the glint in her eye and look on her face were practically indecent. 

“Yes yes. Ok. Our picnic lunch didn’t involve very much food, ok?” Hermione just raised an eyebrow. She really wasn’t helping this along. Ginny sighed. “I didn’t exactly jump him, but it was close. He’s been driving me mad for weeks Hermione, WEEKS. Hadn’t even made a ghost of an attempt until today.”

“So our little conversation about Harry being weird about touch?”

“Yes… well, should I thank you for your insight now, or later?”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose further. She didn’t say anything, just looked at Ginny, expectantly.

“What?” Ginny asked. She didn’t want to just give Hermione a play by play, the girl was smart enough to figure somethings out for herself.

“What happened? I mean, you just, shoved your hand down his pants?”

Ginny huffed a quiet laugh, “No, err… he went first.”

“Went first?”

“Bloody hell, Hermione, he fingered me.” Hermione blushed deeply. Welp, at least they were both a little uncomfortable.

“You mean you didn’t… you know?” Hermione made a rather crude hand motion above the table. Ginny was distinctly appreciative of the Muffliato Charm then, because it was such an un-Hermione thing to do that she burst into surprised laughter. Hermione startled for a moment, looking around, sure that Madam Pince had heard the outburst before realizing they were safe, then joined in at the laughter. They had trouble regaining their composure for a long time.

When they finally stopped giggling the tension had lifted quite a bit, and Ginny felt more comfortable letting her friend in on her secrets, “Well, we did that too. The whole thing was rather enjoyable really, I’m hoping to put Harry’s invisibility cloak down to some very scandalous use here in the near future.” she added with a wink. 

“How did you two go from him not touching you to him putting his hands down your skirt?”

“Up my skirt actually. Up my shirt too. and I sort of asked him to. I’ve been telling him what I liked all week, just simple things like having his arm around my shoulders or things like that, and he was finally starting to catch on. He’ll touch me, but only if basically I tell him to. So…. this afternoon I grabbed his hand and guided it to my chest and told him he had my permission to touch me, that I wanted him to touch me, then he just… did….” Ginny trailed off, she let her brain slide into the memory of Harry’s hands moving unsurely and unconfidently maybe, but so deliciously over her body. She felt heat began to pool in her stomach at the thought and shook her head slightly, trying to clear her mind. This was not the time.

“He’s so damn gentle, he kept stopping to ask if things were ok. But, going up the skirt was his idea really.”

“and… you were ok with that?” It wasn’t accusatory or judgmental, Ginny could see the mix of shock, curiosity, and admiration on Hermione’s face. She supposed that her last real boyfriend being Victor Krum two years prior and Ron being the git that he was had made these conversations somewhat one-sided. Ginny had divulged details from her relationships with Michael and Dean, and while Michael had not explored with his hands much, Dean had. But Deans own attempts at such explorations hadn’t been as well received as Harry’s. Calling Dean handsy would have been unfair. There had been heated snogging sessions where his hand didn’t trail, but had just appeared at different places on her body, hadn’t been entirely uncomfortable but also not entirely desired. She felt as though Dean were trying to lead her places with his touches, hoping for a tit for tat so to speak, and she often felt shocked into disinterest rather than led into desire. 

“Like I said he took his time, kept asking if things were ok. By the time he finally made his way to his destination I was practically begging for it. I’m beginning to think he’s less a noble prat and more a damn tease.” She thought about it for a moment, remembered that, actually, he was noble, even in that moment, asking what she wanted. There were a lot of details she didn’t want to share, but this one moment wasn’t just something she admired in Harry, but something she thought was actually helpful. She had wished her other boyfriends had asked her this really, it would have saved some awkwardness, some discomfort.

“He actually, did something rather cool. He asked me to show him. So… I did.” Ginny blushed furiously but she felt her mouth quirk into a grin, “I highly recommend it. He got the hang of things, err… rather quickly. He’s brilliant at kissing, pretty brilliant at that too, brilliant at Quidditch, I’m wondering if there are things he isn’t good at?”

“Chess. Divination. Staying awake in Binn’s class. Keeping his tie straight.” Hermione began listing things, counting them out on her fingers, “Potions when he’s not cheating” 

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Ok ok, I get it.”

“I’m not done, you look as love sick as he does and you need your head straightened out: Human transfiguration. Fixing his own hair. Staying out of trouble in general.”

Ginny laughed, and averted her eyes for a moment, “Yes, I suppose I am… love sick I mean.” She waited for a response but Hermione didn’t supply one. When she looked up she scoffed, “Oh wipe that look off your face Hermione, we all know we owe you money.”

“I didn’t place a bet.” She smirked, the knowing look plastered on her face in earnest.

“Well then why do you look like a Niffler in a Pawn Shop right now?”

“Because you don’t just fancy him, you’re quite obviously falling for Harry Potter.”

Ginny feigned contemplation, “I think it’s just his hands.” Ginny winked and Hermione laughed. 

Ginny in fact, knew she was already in love with Harry. She felt as if she had known for a long time, loved Harry for a long time. Pined after him from a far at first, but her affections had grown more genuine quite rapidly in the last two years. And now? Well now that she with Harry, it seemed quite obvious. But even with their history, with everything else, it was felt too soon to admit fully.

“So… tell me… what was it like when you…” and they whispered and giggled in the library together until Madam Pince kicked them out.

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea that Harry's isn't really bumbling in his advances or movements - but more that he would be extraordinarily hesitant in all things touch related. But - he's a teenager here and we are imbedded in his head from Book 5-7 when he is most definitely thinking about girls and Quidditch a lot more often than he is thinking about saving the world (such a teenage thing to be doing). So, while I don't think Harry would be prude by any means, I do think he'd be cautious and courteous, and I do like the idea that Ginny would totally take the lead and tell Harry exactly what she wanted from him (to both of their benefits).


End file.
